DELIVERY & GIFT DETAILS:
Usually ships within 24 hours
Delivery Time and Shipping Rates
Eligible for gift wrap & gift message.

Reserve it at BN.com & pick it up in 60 minutes at your local store.
Enter a zip code
(Paperback - Reprint)
Reader Rating: (213 ratings)
Detailed Rating: "Originality" See All
| More Formats | |
|---|---|
| Hardcover | $23.96 |
| Paperback - Reprint | $14.24 |
| MP3 Book - Unabridged | $20.74 |
According to The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch (the world's only completely accurate book of prophecies, written in 1655, before she exploded), the world will end on a Saturday. Next Saturday, in fact. Just before dinner.
So the armies of Good and Evil are amassing, Atlantis is rising, frogs are falling, tempers are flaring. Everything appears to be going according to Divine Plan. Except a somewhat fussy angel and a fast-living demon—both of whom have lived amongst Earth's mortals since The Beginning and have grown rather fond of the lifestyle—are not actually looking forward to the coming Rapture.
And someone seems to have misplaced the Antichrist . . .
Outrageous...read it for a riotous good laugh!
More Reviews and RecommendationsNovelist Neil Gaiman has sent a British businessman tumbling into a fantastic underworld and had a devil and angel comically conspiring to thwart the Apocalypse. He found his biggest success, though, in Death, Dreams and Destruction -- and the four other similarly named siblings who controlled the reins of the human race's emotional impulses in his graphic-novel series The Sandman, a wholesale rejuvenation of graphic fiction that had everyone from Tori Amos to Norman Mailer spinning with, yes, Delirium.
More About the AuthorReader Rating:
See Detailed Ratings
September 20, 2009: I first read this book when I was 13, much too young to appreciate every reference, and I liked it then. Every re-read has made me like it more. The fate of the world is at stake, and still I laugh at the humor, the absurdity, the *humanity* that shines through.
It's not a simple book - the language is smart and the plot has several lines that do tie together nicely. But it's enjoyable to read, not snooty or dense. The characters are fabulous and unique.I've given this book as a gift for a huge range of people - my mom, my husband, my minister, my best friend's new girlfriend. They adored it. You should know, though, that any humorous book that takes on the anti-Christ, witches, the four horsemen of the apocalypse, angels, demons, and Armageddon is not going to appeal to everyone. Especially not those who have an extremely literal take on Biblical matters and an underdeveloped sense of humor. For everyone else, this is highly recommended.I Also Recommend: Thief of Time (Discworld Series), Neverwhere.
Reader Rating:
See Detailed Ratings
July 04, 2009: I liked this book for it's funny outlook on the end of the world. It's a good comedy that should not be missed. I recommend this book to all comedy lovers of the prophecy genre.
Name:
Neil Gaiman
Current Home:
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Date of Birth:
November 10, 1960
Place of Birth:
Portchester, England
Education:
Attended Ardingly College Junior School, 1970-74, and Whitgift School, 1974-77
Awards:
Eagle Award for Violent Cases, 1988; Eagle Award for best writer of U.S. comics, 1990; World Fantasy Award for "A Midsummer Night's Dream," 1991; Bram Stoker Award for American Gods, Horror Writers Association, 2001
Neil Gaiman thought he wrote comic books. But a newspaper editor, of course, set him straight.
Back when he was riding the diabolical headwinds of his popular series of graphic novels, The Sandman, the author attended a party where he introduced himself as a comic-book writer to a newspaper's literary editor. But when the editor quickly realized who this actually was -- and the glaze melted from his eyes -- he offered Gaiman a correction tinged with astonishment: "My God, man, you don't write comics, you write graphic novels." Relating the story to theLos Angeles Times in 1995, Gaiman said, "I suddenly felt like someone who had been informed that she wasn't a hooker, that in fact she was a lady of the evening."
Gaiman's done much more, of course, than simply write graphic novels, having coauthored, with Terry Pratchett, Good Omens, a comic novel about the Apocalypse; adapted into hardcover the BBC miniseries Neverwhere about the dark underworld beneath the streets of London; and, inspired by his young daughter, put a horrifying spin on C.S. Lewis' wardrobe doors for Coraline, a children's book about a passageway into a magical, yet malevolent, land.
But it is The Sandman that is Gaiman's magnum opus.
Though he had told a career counselor in high school that he wanted to pen comic books, he had a career as a freelance journalist before his first graphic novel, Violent Cases, was published in England in 1987. DC Comics discovered him and The Sandman was born. Or reborn, actually. The comic debuted back in 1939 with a regular-Joe crime fighter in the lead. But in Gaiman's hands the tale had a more otherworldly spin, slowing introducing readers to the seven siblings Endless: Dream, Death, Desire, Destiny, Destruction, Despair and Delirium (once Delight). They all have their roles in shaping the fates of man. In fact, when Death was imprisoned for decades, the results were devastating. Richard Nixon reached The White House and Michael Jackson the Billboard charts.
Direction from newspaper editors notwithstanding, to Gaiman, these stories are still comic books. The man who shuttled back and forth between comics and classics in his formative years and can pepper his writing with references to Norse mythology as well as the vaudevillian rock group Queen, never cottoned to such highbrow/lowbrow distinctions. Comparing notes on a yachting excursion with members of the Irish rock band U2, the writer who looks like a rock star and Delirium and the rock stars who gave themselves comic-worthy names such as Bono and The Edge came to a realization: Whether the medium is pop music or comic books, not being taken seriously can be a plus. "It's safer to be in the gutter," he told The Washington Post in 1995.
In 1995, Gaiman brought The Sandman to a close and began spending more time on his nongraphic fiction, including a couple of short-story collections. A few years later he released Stardust, an adult fairy tale that has young Tristan Thorn searching for a fallen star to woo the lovely but cold Victoria Forester. In 2001, he placed an ex-con named Shadow in the middle of a war between the ancient and modern dieties in American Gods. Coming in October 2002 is another departure: an audio recording of Two Plays for Voices, which stars Bebe Neuwirth as a wise queen doing battle with a bloodthirsty child and Brian Dennehy as the Angel of Vengeance investigating the first crime in history in heaven's City of Angels.
Gaiman need not worry about defining his artistic relevance, since so many other seem to do it for him. Stephen King, Roger Zelazny and Harlan Ellison are among those who have contributed introductions to his works. William Gibson, the man who coined the term "cyberspace," called him a "a writer of rare perception and endless imagination" as well as "an American treasure." (Even though he's, technically, a British treasure transplanted to the American Midwest.) Even Norman Mailer has weighed in: "Along with all else, Sandman is a comic strip for intellectuals, and I say it's about time."
The gushiest praise, however, may come from Frank McConnell, who barely contained himself in the pages of the political and artistic journal Commonweal. Saying Gaiman "may just be the most gifted and important storyteller in English," McConnell crowned Sandman as the most important act of fiction of the day. "And that, not just because of the brilliance and intricacy of its storytelling -- and I know few stories, outside the best of Joyce, Faulkner, and Pynchon, that are more intricate," he wrote in October 1995, " but also because it tells its wonderful and humanizing tale in a medium, comic books, still largely considered demimonde by the tenured zombies of the academic establishment."
"If Sandman is a 'comic,'" he concluded, "then The Magic Flute is a 'musical' and A Midsummer Night's Dream is a skit. Read the damn thing: it's important."
Some fascinating factoids from our interview with Gaiman:
"One of the most enjoyable bits of writing Sandman was getting authors whose work I love to write the introductions for the collected graphic novels -- people like Steve Erickson, Gene Wolfe, Harlan Ellison, Clive Barker, Peter Straub, Mikal Gilmore, and Samuel R. Delany."
"I have a big old Addams Family house, with -- in the summertime -- a vegetable garden, and I love growing exotic pumpkins. As a boy in England I used to dream about Ray Bradbury Hallowe'ens, and am thrilled that I get them these days. Unless I'm on the road signing people's books, of course."
"According to my daughters, my most irritating habit is asking for cups of tea."
"I love radio -- and love the availability of things like the Jack Benny radio shows in MP3 format. I'm addicted to BBC radio 7, and keep buying boxed CD sets of old UK radio programs, things like Round the Horne and Hancock's Half Hour. Every now and again I'll write a radio play."
"I love thunderstorms, old houses, and dreams."
What was the book that most influenced your life or your career as a writer?
Probably Harlan Ellison's Shatterday (1980). It's a collection of Ellison's short stories, as powerful as any good Ellison collection, and I read it on a plane trip on very bad day in 1982, and Harlan's commentary in one of his introductions to stories -- on doing things, on being a writer and not just thinking you were a writer, on using the time you have -- did more to turn the almost-22-year-old me into the writer I would one day become than anything else. I got off the plane determined to be a writer.
What are your ten favorite books, and what makes them special to you?
What are some of your favorite films, and what makes them unforgettable to you?
What types of music do you like? Is there any particular kind you like to listen to when you're writing?
I like things with good lyrics -- Stephin Merritt, Thea Gilmore, Elvis Costello, Lou Reed -- and I like things with no lyrics at all, like Michael Nyman. Anything that keeps me sitting and working makes me happy. I have a full 60-gig iPod and I like to put it onto "random" mode and see what it thinks I need. Right now it's playing "Four Left Feet" by the Ditty Bops.
And Stephen Sondheim is still one of my heroes.
If you had a book club, what would it be reading?
I'd love to drag out a bunch of unfashionable and forgotten authors and see what people made of them. Thorne Smith, for example, who wrote delirious jazz age comedies and was one of the authors who made me want to write Anansi Boys, is almost entirely forgotten these days -- the only books of his that are in print are the two Topper books.
Robert Aickman, who wrote the darkest, strangest, most unsettling stories of the twentieth century, is nearly unknown. I'd make people read them, and James Branch Cabell, and Hope Mirrlees.... There are too many wonderful authors who have been swallowed up by time.
Do you have any special writing rituals? For example, what do you have on your desk when you're writing?
When I'm writing a novel, I write in fountain pen, in a notebook. I like to begin a writing day by filling a pen. If I'm working hard and well, I often have two different pens and two colours of ink on the go, to see at a glance how much I wrote in a day.
If I'm feeling particularly blank, I'll do a blog entry for the day over at www.neilgaiman.com, just to get my fingers working.
My best writing ritual I stole from Daniel PInkwater, in, I think, one of his Fishwhistle essays. When I'm meant to be writing, I can write, or I can not do anything at all. The joys of staring out of the window soon pall, and I start writing again.
Many writers are hardly "overnight success" stories. How long did it take for you to get where you are today? Any rejection-slip horror stories or inspirational anecdotes?
Not really. I've been writing now professionally for about 23 years. I'm enormously lucky in that I've been able to support a family by making stuff up and writing it down -- as a journalist for the first few years, then writing fiction, in comics and prose, ever since. I'm always very aware that very few writers can do it full time, that most are forced to take jobs in academia or elsewhere to pay for the privilege of writing.
If you could choose one new writer to be "discovered," who would it be?
Well, eighteen months ago, when I was writing Anansi Boys, it was my friend Susanna Clarke. I'd been waiting for a decade for her to finish Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell and was so excited when my advance proof copy arrived.
However, the world has discovered Susanna.
I wish that the world would rediscover the late R. A. Lafferty -- teller of tall tales, and a unique prose stylist. He wrote in a rambling, wonderful style that looks amazingly easy until you try it.
Of new writers, I'm really impressed with an Australian writer named Margo Lanagan, who wrote a short story collection called Black Juice.
What tips or advice do you have for writers still looking to be discovered?
Write. Finish things. Write more. Send the things you write to places that might publish them. When they come back, send them to other places. Repeat. And read everything.
According to The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch (the world's only completely accurate book of prophecies, written in 1655, before she exploded), the world will end on a Saturday. Next Saturday, in fact. Just before dinner.
So the armies of Good and Evil are amassing, Atlantis is rising, frogs are falling, tempers are flaring. Everything appears to be going according to Divine Plan. Except a somewhat fussy angel and a fast-living demon—both of whom have lived amongst Earth's mortals since The Beginning and have grown rather fond of the lifestyle—are not actually looking forward to the coming Rapture.
And someone seems to have misplaced the Antichrist . . .
Outrageous...read it for a riotous good laugh!
What's so funny about Armageddon? Mor than you'd think...Good Omens has arrived just in time!
A steamroller of silliness that mademe giggle out loud.
This zany tale of the bungling of Armageddon features an angel, a demon, an 11-year-old Antichrist and a doomsaying witch; unmistakably British humor is in abundance. (Mar.)
The birth of the Antichrist in a London hospital begins the countdown to Armageddon. As the forces of both Heaven and Hell anticipate the coming battle to decide the world's fate, a desperate few--including an angel with a taste for rare books, a demon in mirrorshades, the descendant of the world's most accurate prophetess, a part-time witchfinder, four young children, and a dog--race against time to prevent it. Irreverently funny and unexpectedly wise, this collaboration between comics writer Gaiman and Discworld series author Pratchett fuses fantasy and comedy into an untrammeled romp through the latter days. Highly recommended for fantasy and general fiction collections.
YA-- The end of the world is nigh! At least according to the prophecies of Agnes Nutter, a witch whose predictions are usually accurate but seldom heeded. Eleven years before the deadly Last Saturday Night, the ancient rivals of good and evil personified by the angelic Aziraphale (otherwise living as a London book dealer) and the demonic devil and former serpent Crowley clash in substituting the Antichrist during the birth of a baby. But the babies are switched as an unexpected third child enters the picture. The confusion picks up pace as witch hunters Sgt. Shadwell and Newton Pulsifer pursue modern Nutter follower Anathema Device. Along the way, countless puns, humorous footnotes, and satirical illusions enliven the story. A book that's sure to appeal to devoted fans of Douglas Adams.-- Diana C. Hirsch, Prince George's County Memorial Library System, MD
Poul Anderson
An utter delightfresh, exciting, uproariously funny.
Gene Wolfe
One Hell of a funny book.
James Morrow
A slapstick Apocalypse, a grinning, grimoire, a comic necronomicon, a hitchhiker's guide to the netherworld.
Clive Barker
The Apocalypse has never been funnier.
Gene Wolf
One Hell of a funny book.
Loading...Current theories on the creation of the Universe state that, if it was created at all and didn't just start, as it were, unoffi cially, it came into being between ten and twenty thousand million years ago. By the same token the earth itself is generally supposed to be about four and a half thousand million years old.
These dates are incorrect.
Medieval Jewish scholars put the date of the Creation at 3760 B.C. Greek Orthodox theologians put Creation as far back as 5508 B.C.
These suggestions are also incorrect.
Archbishop James Usher (1580-1656) published Annales Veteris et Novi Testamenti in 1654, which suggested that the Heaven and the Earth were created in 4004 B.C. One of his aides took the calculation further, and was able to announce triumphantly that the Earth was created on Sunday the 21st of October, 4004 B.C., at exactly 9:00 A.M., because God liked to get work done early in the morning while he was feeling fresh.
This too was incorrect. By almost a quarter of an hour.
The whole business with the fossilized dinosaur skeletons was a joke the paleontologistshaven't seen yet.
This proves two things:
Firstly, that God moves in extremely mysterious, not to say, circuitous ways. God does not play dice with the universe; He plays an ineffable game of His own devising, which might be compared, from the perspective of any of the other players,* to being involved in an obscure and complex version of poker in a pitch-dark room, with blank cards, for infi nite stakes, with a Dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time.
Secondly, the Earth's a Libra.
The astrological prediction for Libra in the "Your Stars Today"
column of the Tadfi eld Advertiser, on the day this history begins, read as follows:
Libra. September 24-October 23.
You may be feeling run down and always in the same old daily round. Home and family matters are highlighted and are hanging fi re. Avoid unnecessary risks. A friend is important to you. Shelve major decisions until the way ahead seems clear. You may be vulnerable to a stomach upset today, so avoid salads. Help could come from an unexpected quarter.
This was perfectly correct on every count except for the bit about the salads.
It wasn't a dark and stormy night.
It should have been, but that's the weather for you. For every mad scientist who's had a convenient thunderstorm just on the night his Great Work is fi nished and lying on the slab, there have been dozens who've sat around aimlessly under the peaceful stars while Igor clocks up the overtime.
But don't let the fog (with rain later, temperatures dropping to around forty-fi ve degrees) give anyone a false sense of security. Just because it's a mild night doesn't mean that dark forces aren't abroad. They're abroad all the time. They're everywhere.
They always are. That's the whole point.
Two of them lurked in the ruined graveyard. Two shadowy figures, one hunched and squat, the other lean and menacing, both of them Olympic-grade lurkers. If Bruce Springsteen had ever recorded "Born to Lurk," these two would have been on the album cover. They had been lurking in the fog for an hour now, but they had been pacing themselves and could lurk for the rest of the night if necessary, with still enough sullen menace left for a final burst of lurking around dawn.
Finally, after another twenty minutes, one of them said: "Bugger this for a lark. He should of been here hours ago."
The speaker's name was Hastur. He was a Duke of Hell.
Many Phenomena -- wars, plagues, sudden audits -- have been advanced as evidence for the hidden hand of Satan in the affairs of Man, but whenever students of demonology get together the M25 London orbital motorway is generally agreed to be among the top contenders for Exhibit A.
Where they go wrong, of course, is in assuming that the wretched road is evil simply because of the incredible carnage and frustration it engenders every day.
In fact, very few people on the face of the planet know that the very shape of the M25 forms the sigil odegra in the language of the Black Priesthood of Ancient Mu, and means "Hail the Great Beast, Devourer of Worlds." The thousands of motorists who daily fume their way around its serpentine lengths have the same effect as water on a prayer wheel, grinding out an endless fog of low-grade evil to pollute the metaphysical atmosphere for scores of miles around.
It was one of Crowley's better achievements. It had taken years to achieve, and had involved three computer hacks, two break-ins, one minor bribery and, on one wet night when all else had failed, two hours in a squelchy fi eld shifting the marker pegs a few but occultly incredibly signifi cant meters. When Crowley had watched the fi rst thirty-mile-long tailback he'd experienced the lovely warm feeling of a bad job well done.
It had earned him a commendation.
Crowley was currently doing 110 mph somewhere east of Slough. Nothing about him looked particularly demonic, at least by classical standards. No horns, no wings. Admittedly he was listening to a Best of Queen tape, but no conclusions should be drawn from this because all tapes left in a car for more than about a fortnight metamorphose into Best of Queen albums. No particularly demonic thoughts were going through his head. In fact, he was currently wondering vaguely who Moey and Chandon were.
Crowley had dark hair and good cheekbones and he was wearing snakeskin shoes, or at least presumably he was wearing shoes, and he could do really weird things with his tongue. And, whenever he forgot himself, he had a tendency to hiss.
He also didn't blink much.
The car he was driving was a 1926 black Bentley, one owner from new, and that owner had been Crowley. He'd looked after it.
Continues...
Excerpted from Good Omens by Neil Gaiman Copyright © 2006 by Neil Gaiman. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
loading...
loading...
loading...
Order Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere on DVD!
Order A Short Film About John Bolton on DVD!
Hear our exclusive audio interview with Neil Gaiman (14:40).
Terms of Use, Copyright, and Privacy Policy
© 1997-2009 Barnesandnoble.com llc